Dimensional Descent

Leonel walked up to the side of a building and began inspecting it. Aina didn’t say anything as she followed along, simply allowing Leonel to focus. But as unexpressive as Leonel’s face was, his mind was like a raging storm.

Due to what had happened at the Void Tower, Leonel’s Dream World looked a lot more like a universe of its own, his synapses becoming like the usually imaginary lines that connected the stars of a constellation.

Planets moved, asteroids rushed about, and stars sparkled and faded. It was as though Leonel’s thoughts themselves could force world shattering changes, the changes the likes of which could cause upheaval on a cataclysmic scale.

‘As expected, practically everything here is made up of Seventh Dimensional materials at worst. That’s both a good and a bad thing…’

Leonel’s thoughts danced about in his mind. The Dwarven Races Force Arts, the Morales family’s Force Arts, the Luxnix family’s Force Arts, and even snippets of the Spiritual Races Force Arts all danced about in Leonel’s mind, a raging tempest of thoughts forming up and then collapsing one after another.

‘It’s possible… It’s possible if I copy… Maybe with a few changes here and there…’

Leonel’s mind was on a completely different level than it had been before, but when it came to the Force Arts of the Dwarven Race, copying with just a few liberties was still the best that he could do.

However, he felt that he was getting closer and closer on that front, all he was lacking was time. But time was maybe what he lacked the most. He had given himself two more weeks to gain enough strength to leave the Oliidark family, but now it felt like that timeline was trying to swallow him whole.

Despite the pressure, Leonel only seemed to grow calmer, his mind working faster and faster.

At that moment, Leonel’s palm flipped over the Force Quill appeared, his pale violet eyes glowing with a blinding light as he began to draw across the side of a building. He seemed to forget about everything else, trusting Aina entirely to protect his back.

…

The appearance of Leonel and Aina had definitely caught the attention of the Human Class geniuses who were still biding their time and waiting for the events to begin. But the ones caught the most off guard were the trio who recognized Aina’s name.

Could it be that Aina had already claimed the Top Prize of the High Class? That much was great, but where were Uvile and Silyn, then? And also, why hadn’t there been any attempt to contact them? There were more than a few options on how to do so even if you were scared about the retaliation of the Human Class demons.

The trio of young women looked toward one another. They realized that something here wasn’t quite right, especially since there was also this Leonidas character. But the benefit of an extra helper wouldn’t be small, so they had to try and find Aina.

…

In the skies above, Ophelia continued to watch on with a cold gaze. When she saw Aina waste a 100 million Demon Points on Leonel, buying up everything he pointed out without the slightest hesitation, her smoldering fury only became deeper and deeper.

She seemed to have completely forgotten that it was only because of Leonel that Aina had accumulated so many points so easily to begin with. She couldn’t seem to wrap her head around the idea of mutual aid, trust and respect.

Her gaze focused on Aina, never leaving her once. She didn’t even seem to notice what it was that Leonel was doing at all. Or maybe it was just that she didn’t care.

Avras, though, was watching on in confusion. That was clearly a Force Quill, but why wasn’t it a Force Art language that he didn’t recognize?

Not recognizing it was still fine, but he should still be able to deduce its effects much like Leonel could with the Dwarven Race’s Force Arts. However… he actually couldn’t make heads or tails of it. It felt impossible that Leonel’s attainments in Force Arts could be deeper than his own. Could it be that he was just trying to show off for a girl and doing whatever nonsense came to mind?

But that didn’t seem to make much sense either. Leonel clearly had enough skill that such tricks weren’t necessary. Plus, he already had the heart of the bastard child of the Brazinger’s, so was doing such a thing even worth it?

‘… Odd.’

…

Leonel didn’t have time to pay attention to the thoughts of others. As he moved, he only seemed to become faster. It had been so long since he had Crafted anything that he forgot how much he loved it.

To Leonel’s shock, though, as he continued to draw, a subtle sort of feeling began to dance on the edge of his quill’s tip. In fact, the unruly Quasi Life Grade Force Quill only seemed to become more and more obedient with each passing second.

For a moment, the quill felt no different from a spear or his bow, his control over it was immaculate and the Artistic Conception that flooded forth from its body enveloped Leonel, causing him to sink even deeper into his thoughts.

He had felt this feeling once before. When he forged the final creation of his last Force Quill, a Force Quill that had followed by his side for years, he could almost feel its mourning, its excitement, its final will.

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That feeling was oh so subtle before, but after grasping the first stage of his grandfather’s spear technique, it became sharper. Rather than a slight melody pulling at his will, it felt as though the DONG of a sonorous bell was ringing in his mind.

Leonel seemed to vanish, fusing into the world itself. It suddenly wasn’t clear where his hand stopped and where his quill began. 

And then it clicked. He realized what was lacking from his Bow Force and from his Spear Force.

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